Unfortunate Bloke
by kazema
Summary: ONESHOT. Hermione would rather answer a magazine survey on HOW AND WHEN TO KNOW YOU'RE OBSESSED than KISS MALFOY.


Disclaimer: All characters belong to J. K. Rowling.

A/N: Happened during the sixth year after Draco declared that he can't do what was ordered and before the attack in Hogwarts (HBP). _Edited 07.05.11. Edited 03.05.13._

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**-:- Unfortunate Bloke -:-**

Before he's gone for good, I had to ask him tonight. Before he threw away his life for something that wasn't certain, something that wasn't worth it, I had to stop being a coward.

At dinner, I was barely able to eat. My mind was reeling with the possible consequences of what I was planning to do. But…despite all possible and worst outcomes I could imagine, I had decided. I went out the Great Hall moments after I saw him leave alone, his facial features betrayed no sign of the trouble and worries I had seen on his face when I looked at him from afar this past weeks.

It's now or never. It was my chance and I must seize it. I know where he's going because I've followed him for more than a month. Yet I never had the Gryffindor courage to confront him. For weeks, I stalked him. No one seemed to notice what I was up to and it was a relief mind you. Everyone must have been very busy with their lives to even care.

I followed him until he reached the Astronomy Tower, all by himself, his posture rigid. The moon bathed his form in an image of despair and wonder. If I could only see his eyes, maybe I could see what was truly hidden inside, what mystery those silver eyes hold.

Lucky, I must be, for that night, my courage reappeared from its absence without leave. I approached him silently so as not to scare him away. When I was only a few feet away from him, I almost felt the urge to run for the door. Almost, but my courage was like a weighing me down.

I continued to step closer, until I was standing beside him. He sensed my unwanted presence and then looked sideways at me, his eyes filled with curiosity. And then indifference took its form on his handsome face. My tongue itched to ask the question I wanted to ask. Such question kept spinning in my mind like a broken record. It needed to get out, badly. I have no control over it because it controlled me and it was driving me crazy. I just had to get it out.

Before he could violently react to the fact that a MUDBLOOD was standing inches away from him, I asked without looking at him. "If I weren't a Mudblood, would you have looked at me without animosity and treat me differently?"

The night was quiet and my question came out barely above a whisper. But for me, it sounded so loud and alarming that I wished I could take it back and walk away, or better yet, run away.

I was thinking straight when I said it. Well, maybe I was sane and insane at the same time. I'm quite not sure why I did it; must be the curiosity that overcame me. How the bloody hell did I even think of asking him THAT question? What got into me?

I silently prayed he had gone temporarily deaf. I should run for my life NOW before he burst out laughing at my face and tell me how stupid I sounded, before he could display that smirk he'd so generously given me in the past several years. If I could count all the smirks, sneers and insults I received from him, I would be rich, filthy rich I must say.

He was silent for a long time. Oh Merlin, not quite the reaction I was looking for. I did not dare spare him a glance. In fact, my neck had gone numb with dread. How I prayed that at that moment the ground would swallow me whole. Or maybe he can be swallowed whole since I hate him so.

SO MUCH, I must add but then I needed to know. I must have the closure I need so I wouldn't have to think of him every night, wondering why he was the way he was.

You heard it right. I, Hermione Granger who swore to hate him forever not only wasted my energy, but also exhausted my brain cells thinking of a prat like Draco Malfoy. And the worst part – there was some daydreaming involved, if you could imagine. It made me feel very disgusted with myself.

How the bloody hell did this madness started?

I remember how it bothered me when I heard from Harry that he caught Malfoy in a very un-Malfoy like situation in the bathroom, crying. I can't imagine ever seeing him like that. He was real after all. He feels after all. I did know he could be a coward sometimes but it didn't make him any less than what I thought of him. What did I think of him anyway?

I've always had this picture of him as someone who was so irritatingly prideful, annoyingly arrogant, who would never shut his mouth especially when I was around, always calling me Mudblood. I would be a liar if I said it didn't hurt me one bit whenever he called me that foul name or the simple word 'filthy' attached to such word.

Only if I could, I would have avoided every chance he had to get to me. But I ran out of luck, or better yet, I have no such luck at all in the past years, for he was always around, bugging me, rubbing to my face how lowly I was, how superior he was, how dirty as mud I was and how he despised me when I haven't done anything to him at all to deserve such treatment.

I've pondered about what he wanted to do with his life. I knew he will become a servant of the Dark Lord just like his parents. What a waste of talent. He was doing well in all the classes we had together. He was a rival, just a rival. Would it make a difference if he weren't a pureblood? Would it make a difference if I weren't a Mudblood?

The Library was one of the places I felt so safe from his taunts and insults. It would take a lot of tolerance to ignore what other psychological torture he had in store for me. My tolerance was unacceptably running out day by day. To make things worst, I had to endure a dose of him in the place I least expect to see him.

To my dismay, one night at the Library, I saw him hunched over a book, reading maybe or simply staring at the page for who knows how long. He didn't look like he was reading if you ask me. He seemed pre-occupied. With what, I had no idea. That was when it started, the stalking, and the wondering.

I didn't know why but suddenly, I pitied Malfoy for just being him or not being able to be the real him at all. Who knew the real him? There were a lot that I didn't know, yet I had been quick to judge him. But why wouldn't I? He had judged me too. He didn't even know me but he spent a lot of his time torturing me.

This happened for a couple of days at the Library, the stalking and observation. I glanced at him secretly, sometimes getting a good view of his back or of his profile, which I prefer to be better. He was always there, not aware of the secret looks I threw at him. I must have been thinking too much of the prat that even in my unconsciousness, thoughts about him and images of him plagued my mind.

I HATED it.

Not only the thought of the invasion, but the sense that I felt something which I should not be feeling towards him. It was not hate and loathing. It was something else I cannot understand. I cannot see the logic how it happened and why of all people it had to be towards him?

What more, Ginny had noticed my restlessness. She saw how I would discreetly look over the other table in the Great Hall. I thought I was doing a good job of being cautious, of mot being obvious. The girl Ginny was, she's so observant, she hardly missed the things I wanted her to miss.

We had a girl talk one late night at the Common Room. I was left with no choice but to tell her. Might as well tell her, I thought. She may be able to give me some good advice about my problem.

Draco Malfoy was the problem and it scared me to admit that I am attracted to him, possibly. It was his ability to be good in pretending that must have caught my attention, until eventually I noticed how handsome he looked in those robes, how his lips would curl into a smirk, how his hair would glow in the sun and how intelligent he was and how he stopped throwing insults at me, which I find rather ODD. I always knew he looked good and that he was physically attractive. It had always been there but I chose to shove it away at the back of my mind, telling myself I was being shallow. Everything about him, even his actions, seemed to have an effect on me. And I'm beginning to dislike such feeling.

As much as I love and enjoy daydreaming about him, I cannot continue doing it. It had to STOP. The attraction had grown into some sort of obsession to the point that a silly question was formed in my mind.

Ginny seemed to understand it. I thought she was going to lecture me but she didn't. I thought she would tell me how traitorous such feelings were. I thought she would remind me of the things he'd done to me and our friends. Well, she did give me an advice. Some advice it was, I can't pull it off, much less even think of doing it. KIsS HIM, she told me simply. She was dead serious.

Did she know what she's saying? It can't be the only solution. There must be something else. My mind rejected it but at the same time I was excited. I found myself wondering how it would feel to kiss him. It was disgusting, but then I realized, not really.

Ginny insisted it was the only way. She said it was in the kiss and that I would know if I love Malfoy or not.

LOVE? Who said something about love here? What made Ginny think I love Malfoy? It's impossible! I can't possibly love him. It's unacceptable, wrong, unimaginable, revolting, it can't be! If I kissed him, will my problems be solved? It might only lead to more complications. And complications are not good, they never were.

How can I tell that I love him through one kiss? What if I cannot tell? I asked all these questions, panic starting to grip my insides. Ginny said I shouldn't worry about it because it worked all the time. To prove her point of the inevitability of doing such measure, she said I wouldn't want to WASTE my time thinking of someone who wasn't even worth thinking about.

She told me what if I spent months thinking about Malfoy and then finally I got to snog him, which in my right mind I doubt would happen, then I'd realize it wasn't love, it was nothing at all but just some fleeting attraction I cannot seem to shake off? The result – I've only wasted so much time on him and missed being able to find the right one.

She did make sense.

Why the bloody hell should LOVE be this COMPLICATED?

FINE. Ginny seemed to be enjoying how I reacted to her silly suggestion. She smiled widely when she saw I was beginning to consider her advice. If it was the only way, so be it. I knew not how I'm going to do it, but I'll do it nonetheless. I asked her what should I do, throw myself at him? It was meant as a joke but she was so eager about the outcome that she missed the sarcasm. She said it was a good idea. A good idea?

That's it, I'm doomed.

The next day, on my trip to Hogsmeade, I bought a muggle magazine. I was alone when I bought it. How do you suppose Harry and Ron would react if they saw it?

**HOW AND WHEN TO KNOW YOU'RE OBSESSED**

It was clearly printed on the front cover in huge black bold letters. It featured articles on the symptoms and solutions to an obsession.

Maybe it was the answer to my problem. Maybe I never had to kiss Malfoy.

I answered the questions in the Library. I sat at the far corner, near a window, away from the aisle and from some students who were there. I didn't want to risk being seen in the Common Room by Lavender or the others who thirst for gossip like it was the only thing that mattered.

The Library was the safest place to do what I had to do. So I got down to business, determination in my mind to make this one work and therefore never to try and kiss Malfoy.

I flipped through the pages - it said that more than 5 TRUEs out of 10 meant I'm obsessed. I need to score 5 desperately. I held my breath and began to read through the questions.

**1. You never had a decent conversation with him/her but still you kept thinking about him/her.**

We had conversations but they weren't DECENT enough. As I marked **TRUE**,I felt my stomach curl in anticipation. It was as though my life depended on this magazine and that ain't normal, in my opinion.

**2. You always want to see him/her to the point that your day is not complete when he/she is not around and it made you feel empty if you didn't get a glimpse of him/her.**

That would be a 100 percent **FALSE**. I'm not desperate for his attention. My day was complete even without him around, seriously. But how will I explain the fact that my mind was polluted with images of him? I clutched my bushy hair in despair; hoping that doing so will put some sense back into me. Still it's a FALSE. What kind of an 'obsession-finder question' was this? Shouldn't this question be under the love category? I sighed. Oh well, maybe that's the point. This was about finding out if I'm in love or simply obsessed. I'm now feeling the desperation to get 5 TRUEs. I admit that there might be a possibility that I love him and I have no idea how the bloody hell that happened. It was beyond me.

**3. You like him/her and you sometimes think that maybe he/she likes you too or might like you.**

The question was a bit vague, not to mention PATHETIC. Honestly, I once thought that maybe he'll like me. So what now, TRUE or FALSE? Fine, fine, fine, since I'm an honest person, the answer is **TRUE**. And I'm beginning to feel a little pathetic myself.

"What the bloody hell are you doing Granger?" drawled a voice from behind me. I almost fell off my chair when I heard it. It came out of nowhere and I need not see who it was.

MALFOY!

I jerked the magazine away from his view and shoved it inside my bag mercilessly.

How much did he see?

I felt my cheeks burn in embarrassment. Of all the people to see what I was doing, why should it be the one who's caused this pathetic attempt at solving an obsession that had gone way out of control?

I calmed myself and took deep breaths before looking up at him. He was smirking again. He was probably so pleased with himself he caught me in such an uncomfortable moment.

"It's none of your business!" I gave as much strength in my voice as I could manage. I was looking up at him and he was looking down at me. Perfect. Just the position he wanted to portray about his so-called superiority over me.

"So, who's the unfortunate bloke you've been, hmmm, what is it…" he pretended to ponder for the right term while a genuine smile adorned his lips, "OBSESSING? Who is he you're obsessed about? Tell me, I'm dying to know."

He looked clearly amused at my expense. The arrogance of him! That kiss won't be happening. I'm done with him. And I'm done with answering the magazine too. "Like I said, it's none of your business. Go bug someone else." But he wasn't intimidated by my glare. Need to get away NOW. "I have no time for this." I stood and left the Library as fast as I could before he could ask another question and before Madame Pince could scold us for bickering.

I ran fast and was breathless when I arrived at the Common Room. Ginny was there. I needed to get it all out at once or I'll explode. I told her everything, from the magazine to Malfoy's catching me answering it and his reaction.

When I finished retelling what happened, that was when I realized he smiled. He actually smiled and it was a genuine one, I think. I rarely saw him smile like that. It was always the smirk if not the scowl or the glare. Weird. My heart pounded treacherously at the memory of it. He smiled at me. I was floating in cloud nine but I fell flat on my face the instant I realized it might not mean anything at all. He was after all, also smirking that time. What's the difference? That smile didn't count.

I told Ginny to think of another way but she was unshakable on the whole 'grab him and kiss him' thing. I told her how it scared me. What if I do love him? What would happen next? And what did she tell me?

Fall in love whenever you can.

I never opened the magazine again. It was buried in my trunk, underneath the clothes. That piece of junk was rubbish and useless...

So here I was, standing beside him, waiting for an answer while I pondered whether I should kiss him even though it was already decided the night I had my last conversation with Ginny.

I had no idea how to kiss. What if he laughed at me or worst threw me over the tower, while he twisted in disgust because my mouth had pressed unceremoniously against his?

He stayed silent. Have I done the wrong thing, asked the wrong question? This was all wrong and it was about to get worst. The silence stretched on, deafeningly so.

To save some of the dignity that's left in me if ever there was still something left, I said in an almost squeaky voice "Forget it. Laugh all you want. Forget I even asked," and then I turned to leave, hoping he wouldn't make fun of me tomorrow or for the rest of my life.

"Wait," he said, his voice was incredibly different from the tone he usually used when making fun of me.

I stopped but didn't look at him, scared to see that the expression is that of indifference. "If you'll ask why I asked, don't. I just want an answer. After that, I won't sneak on you again."

"You really want to know?" There was a hint of uncertainty in his voice. He sounded as though he would rather be anywhere but there. But he stayed. And I decided I better look at him

I was torn between hoping he would say what I wanted to hear and the wake-up call I have to hear so I could go on with my life if I can even do so now that I seem to have gone deep.

"If you weren't a Mudblood, without a doubt I would notice you…" he trailed off. I narrowed my eyes, trying to read him. What did he mean by 'notice'? "

When I said 'notice', I meant to say…I'd…I'd probably like you…and more…maybe" he finished then he sighed deeply.

Why did it hurt now to know that their blood lineage mattered? It was all about that, it had always been and will always be. The 'probably' word was clear. Why was life so unfair? Before I could change my mind, I asked, "Can I ask you a favor?"

He waited without encouraging me to go on. But that's enough encouragement I need. I continued with my overwhelming madness. "Can you pretend I'm not a Mudblood, just this once…and will you let me kiss you? You don't have to kiss me back," I added immediately as I looked at him. His eyes were so striking in the moonlight and I felt excited at what was about to happen next.

All my inhibitions left me. It was great to be able to tell him straight what I want. To my surprise, instead of insulting me, his expression softened. He looked at me not as though I was CRAZY, not as though I was the Mudblood he so intensely despised.

There was understanding and agreement written all over his face.

Since I was the one who asked, I have to initiate the kiss. Suddnely, that made me nervous. I walked towards him until we're inches away. At first I felt awkward as to where I should touch him, as to where I should place my hands. But the drive and need to touch him was consuming me.

Will he cringe at my touch? I was halfway to feeling his skin on my bare and shaking hands when he met me halfway. Before I knew it, he was holding my hand while his other hand was on my cheek. His hands were warm. Before i know it, I was clinging on to him, leaning on to him. Our faces were inches away from each other. That kiss will be happening soon.

In my apprehension and excitement to kiss him, my nose bumped into his nose. It hurt. He chuckled and then, "Let me." His breath was warm on my cheek as he angled his face.

He kissed me. Can you believe it? I said he didn't need to move or to even respond. Yet here he was, kissing me.

I felt as though I was flying. But this kind of flying was not scary at all. In fact it was wonderful. More wonderful than I expected. It was incredibly good and my feet were above the ground and my mind was swirling.

For all I know, he must have thrown me off the tower and I was not even aware of it. But the smell of his skin, the feel of his cheeks, his neck and broad shoulders under my roaming hands was overpowering, all too real. We were holding on to each other. His hand that held my hand awhile ago rested on my waist. It brought us closer to each other.

He was kissing me fiercely but with passion, and at the same time careful not to crush my lips against his soft lips. Slowly though, I learned how to kiss him back with equal passion.

And then I felt a tugging in my heart as the kiss deepened. My pulse rate quickened and I felt light headed.

That's when I knew it.

I love this UNFORTUNATE BLOKE.

I love Draco Malfoy.

As the realization hit me, I need not worry about it as I remembered Ginny's words: _Fall in love whenever you can…_

Even if it is with the enemy.

**.:THE END:.**


End file.
